


Good publicity

by Bergen



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Dead May Parker (Spider-Man), Don't copy to another site, Foster Care, Gen, Identity Reveal, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Secret Identity, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, civil war never happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-02-23 06:26:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23007160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bergen/pseuds/Bergen
Summary: “That was a disaster. The press is having a field day.”“It wasn’t my fault,” Tony defends. “That Spider-Guy never knows when to shut up. He distracted me.”“Your reputation took a blow,” Pepper tells him. “Which will be fixed, of course. I’ve already set it up.”“Set what up? What, am I going to make flower arrangements with the elderly?”Pepper slides a piece of paper towards him. “Try an orphan. His name is Peter Parker. His biggest dream is to meet you. But…” She hesitates.“But?”“Apparently he doesn’t talk much. Sometimes not at all. Trauma-related.”“A smart kid who doesn’t talk? Perfect combination. If only all my employees were like that.”---Or: Between Peter Parker barely speaking, and Spider-Man being the ultimate chatterbox, how was Tony ever supposed to figure out that they were one and the same person?
Relationships: Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Pepper Potts, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 212
Kudos: 3113
Collections: Avidreaders Avengers completed faves, Avidreaders Spiderman completed faves, Collection of stories in which no one knows that Peter is Spiderman, Grays fave Irondad fics, Lost and Found Irondad Fics, Marvel(ous)Universe, Peter Parker Stories, The Best Irondad/Spiderson Fics, The Best Peter Parker Fluff Fics, The Best Peter Parker Whump Fics, The Best of the Best MCU Fics, ellie marvel fics - read, love of marvel





	1. Fun-size

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Хорошая реклама](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23680204) by [8salfeti8](https://archiveofourown.org/users/8salfeti8/pseuds/8salfeti8)



“It seems we blotched this one.”

“Really? What gave it away?”

“Shut up, dude,” Tony mutters as he moves to the edge of the roof to glance down to the street below. “This wouldn’t have happened if you’d let me concentrate.”

Spider-Man joins him on the ledge. “I’m sorry, ‘concentrate’? I didn’t know that word was a part of your vocabulary. Maybe you meant ‘aggravate’? ‘Mutilate?’ ‘Annihilate’?”

“All right, smartass.”

“Nauseate…” Spider-Man quickly adds.

“ _All right_ , Emily Dickinson. Let’s just be glad no one got hurt,” Tony says, even as he is infrared-scanning the piles of rubble to make sure no one has gotten trapped underneath. He should have called for back-up on this one, but he really though it wouldn’t be a big deal. Just some idiot flying around on a hoverboard with a gun. Until it turned out that said gun caused shockwaves that could blast entire buildings apart.

“I’m glad you showed up,” he admits. “This is bad, but it could have been a lot worse. Of course, the press is going to claim otherwise.”

He turns towards Spider-Man now, looking into the brown eyes that peek back at him from behind a pair of silly black goggles.

“Why can’t you take off that stupid, _stupid_ mask, underoos?”

“There are two reasons for it, Stark.” Spider-Man says. “The first reason is, I don’t want to, and the second happens to be that same reason also.”

Tony sighs, looking back down at the debris covering the streets down below. “I am one hundred percent going to blame you for this clusterfuck.”

“You are a real douchebag, you know that?”

“Yes,” Tony replies, smugly.

-

Pepper sighs a deep sigh as she clicks through the news. “That was a disaster. The press is having a field day.”

“It wasn’t my fault,” Tony defends. “That Spider-Guy never knows when to shut up. Just an incessant stream of nonsense. He distracted me.”

“Either way, your reputation took a blow,” Pepper tells him. “Nothing new. And just like the previous one hundred times, it will be fixed, of course. All we need is an inspired bit of good PR to get you back on that insanely high pedestal the public always puts you on. I’ve already set it up.”

“Set _what_ up? What, am I going to make flower arrangements with the elderly? Organize a benefit for single mothers in Ethiopia?”

Pepper slides a piece of paper towards him. “Try an orphan. His name is Peter Parker. He lives in a group home. He is fifteen. He is exceptionally intelligent. He loves superheroes. And his biggest dream is to meet the great Tony Stark. He was brought to my attention a few weeks ago by some foundation that makes dreams come true, you know the type. I didn’t act on it, because I didn’t want him to be disappointed when he met the _real_ you.”

“Harsh, Pep.”

“I’m still worried about it, to be honest,” Pepper says. “We need the good publicity. But I’m worried you won’t be able to deal with him properly. Because…” She hesitates.

“Because?”

“Apparently he doesn’t talk much. Sometimes not at all. Trauma-related.”

Tony glances down at the piece of paper, and the picture attached to it. The kid has a wide smile and sparkling, brown eyes. He doesn’t look like an anxious or sad kid. But everyone copes with trauma in their own way. “All right. Set it up.”

Pepper raises her eyebrows. “That’s it? I thought you were going to be insufferable about this.”

“Please. A smart kid who doesn’t talk? Perfect combination. If only all my employees were like that.”

Pepper eyes him for a while, tapping her pen against the desk. “The last thing this boy needs is his big hero making fun of him.”

“You think I’ll make fun of a kid for having psychological issues? You don’t exactly have a high opinion of me, do you?”

“You’re socially inept,” is Pepper’s unforgiving response. “You might not intend to make fun of him, but even just by being your sarcastic self, you can really throw people off.”

“Thanks for sugar-coating that for my benefit.”

-

Tony is briefed over the phone by Melissa, a particularly coarse social worker, the next day.

“Don’t sweat it,” she says through a crackling line. “Only thing you gotta remember is to not get all up on him about not talking. And don’t worry, really. Everyone thinks he’s all _delicate_ because he’s so quiet, but he ain’t delicate at all, I’m telling ya. He can be a snarky little shit. He’s just subtle about it.”

Tony rubs his forehead. “All right, all right. How will I know what he wants to do? Does he… - are you in a tunnel or something? The connection is terrible – Does he write stuff down?”

“Nah, it’s not like that. He talks. It’s just he generally sticks to only a few words. As for what he wants to do… Literally anything you can think of, I can guarantee he’ll be all hot in the biscuit to do it with you. Can you hear me better now? I’m on my balcony. Smells of pigeons out here. He pretty much stopped talking after his aunt died.”

“Ah. He was close with her, then?”

“She raised him. His parents died in an airplane crash when he was nine. He moved in with his uncle and aunt. His uncle was shot last year, and his aunt died about half a year ago in a fire.”

“Jesus Christ,” Tony mumbles.

“Yeah, not all sunshine and rainbows. So thanks for doing this for him. Very altruistic of you.” There is a strange edge to her voice at that last sentence, and Tony has the feeling that she knows exactly why Tony agreed to meeting Peter in this particular moment.

-

It’s not as bad as Tony expects.

The boy is smiling ear to ear as he steps out of the car, brown eyes wide with excitement. He makes eye contact with Tony as they shake hands and he even murmurs something that sounds like a greeting.

Melissa is with him. While on the phone, Tony had imagined her as a tall, plump woman. But Melissa is short and slender, with long hair and long nails. Her voice is way too loud for someone that tiny. “Y’all ready for today?” She bellows.

“Yes, it’s going to be fun,” Tony promises.

Melissa pinches Peter’s arm.

“You excited?”

Peter ducks his head as he nods.

“All right. Pick you up at four, or call me if you need me. Smell your later!” And just like that, she is gone.

“Want to come down to my lab?” Tony asks Peter.

Peter nods.

“I’ve been told you’re a smart kid. What’s your favorite subject?” Tony asks as they ascend the stairs towards the front entrance of the compound.

Peter pulls at his shirt. It has a print of two glass vials, both containing a chemical substance. One vial is telling the other: “I think you’re overreacting!”

Okay, so the kid _really_ doesn’t talk.

“You like chemistry?”

Peter nods with a small smile.

“I can work with that. I _do_ work with that. Not always successfully. I almost blew up my lab just last week. You should have seen Pepper’s face – uh, she’s my fiancée. At least, I think she is. I tried proposing to her but she just sort of rolled her eyes. Come to think of it, I should get back to her about that.”

They reach Tony’s workshop and Tony flicks the light switch, bathing the room in fluorescent light. “Welcome to the best place on earth,” he says. “Apart from the Seychelles. I have a little mansion down there, it’s lovely. Haven’t been there in five years, with everything going on, so it might have completely caved in by now.”

Peter quietly steps into the workplace, his eyes scanning the whole room carefully. He points at Tony’s Iron Man suit on a table in the middle of the room.

Tony waves a hand. “Yeah, yeah. The suit. We’ll get to that. First, let me show you what I’m working on right now.” He puts his hands on Peter’s shoulders, steering him towards one of the workbenches. “You know Hawkeye? Of course you do. You know his arrows? Of course you do. I’m trying to make him a set of explosive arrows. The explosion should be remote controlled. So I need a stable explosive that will not detonate immediately when hitting something, but that will explode with an additional catalyst charge. And the explosion won’t do any damage without some form of accessory fragmentation. But obviously arrows are required to be light, so I can’t just stuff it full of C-4. Right? So I’m facing a problem.”

Peter carefully picks up the hollow metal arrow lying on the workbench, staring down at it, slowly turning it over in his hands. For a moment, Tony is sure that the kid didn’t understand a word he just said.

“Hemispherical cavity metal detonators”, says Peter.

Tony blinks, needing a moment to process that, yes, the first words out of this kids’ mouth are in fact ‘ _hemispherical cavity metal detonators_ ’.

“You’re talking about the Munroe effect?”

Peter gives a slight nod.

“Christ, kid. They told me you were smart. They didn’t say you were a genius. You’re like a fun-size Thomas Edison.”

Peter shakes his head at that.

Tony quirks an eyebrow, folding his arms across. “No?”

“Tesla,” says Peter, a smirk appearing on his face.

Tony bursts out laughing. “Sure. Nikola Tesla. Either way, you’re fun-size, funsy.”

He glances down at the arrow in Peter’s hand, then back up at Peter. “Do you want to try and make the calculations?”

Peter’s face lights up as if Tony just offered him a slice of chocolate pie.

-

A message pops up on Tony’s screen. It’s from Pepper, reminding him to get the publicity sorted. Frankly, as soon as Tony heard the words ‘hemispherical cavity metal detonators’ he had sort of forgotten why Peter was really here.

Tony glances towards Peter, who is sitting on the other side of his large desk. He reaches out a leg and pokes Peter with his foot. “Hey kid. Don’t forget the Grainger Foundation. You gotta write a little message for their website about today. Should we take a selfie together, too?”

Peter nods, holding two fingers up in a peace sign, like a Chinese schoolgirl posing for a holiday snapshot. Tony snorts.

His own calculations forgotten for a moment, Peter glances sideways at Tony’s screen. When Peter catches Tony looking back at him, he lifts his chin a little as if to say _what are you up to?_

“It’s hard to explain.”

Peter seems to accept that answer, dropping his eyes back down to his own work and continuing to scribble out numbers.

Tony leans back in his chair, tapping his fingers against his desk for a while, frustrated. “You know Spider-Man?” He then asks.

Peter makes eye-contact again, cocks his head, then slowly nods.

“You may have seen on the news that he’s been working with us lately. You might say he is on the team. Except he isn’t. Because we have no idea who he is and I don’t actually have a way to contact him. He just shows up, usually. I probably shouldn’t be telling you this. Ah, what am I saying? It’s not like you’ll tell anyone else.”

Peter smiles, dropping his pencil and leaning his head on his arms as he listens.

Tony points towards the screen. “I’ve been trying to create algorithms and find a pattern in his behavior, uncover his identity, but every time I feel like I’m getting close to him, his behavior suddenly changes completely. Either he is on to me and messing with me on purpose, or he has for some reason moved to a new neighborhood at least three times over the last six months.”

Peter frowns, leaning in. He reaches out and points his pencil towards the words ‘Predicting Criminal Behavior’ at the top of Tony’s screen. More specifically, at the word ‘criminal’.

“No, he’s not a criminal,” Tony agrees. “But if I’m going to put my life in someone’s hands, I want to know more about the guy than just that he’s terrible at making costumes.”

Peter chuckles. He stands up, moving over to Tony’s workbench.

Tony follows his movements for a while, before turning back to the screen and the infuriatingly chaotic collection of red dots all over the map of New York that indicate all past Spider-Man sightings in the city.

He blinks when Peter pops up next to him and places something tiny on the desk in front of him. “You’re suggesting a tracker?”

Peter sits down, giving Tony an expectant look.

Tony sighs, running a hand across his face. “I have thought about that. I’m sure I could find a way to stick one to his onesie. But I’m worried he’d notice it, and then we’ll never see him again. I don’t want to chase the guy away. I just want a name and a face. And I don’t want him to know _that_ I know. Does that make sense?”

Peter shakes his head with a deadpan expression.

“Fair enough. At least you’re honest.” Tony picks up the tracker. “Hmmm. You know what, maybe I’ll rethink this. If I use a really small tracker, I bet I could get away with it. And it’ll definitely be effective. Thanks, kid. If this works, I’ll buy you a beer. Oh, shit, no. I’ll buy you a lemonade, I guess.”

Peter smiles.

-

Bruce comes by with cookies and drinks. “Pepper says you need a break,” he says, curiously eyeing Peter up and down. “Working hard?”

Peter turns his notebook towards Bruce and Bruce chuckles when he sees a cartoonish drawing of Tony in his Iron Man suit. “Hey, that’s quite good, kid.” He steps closer, taking the notebook from Peter’s hands and studying it.

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony mutters. “Encourage him. The snide little bastard.”

Peter just grins.

He takes his notebook back and Tony glances over to see Peter grab a green pencil and start on a drawing that is very obviously going to be the Hulk.

“You just don’t quit, do you? You’re like that Duracell bunny. It’s almost three thirty, though, so we should start wrapping this up.”

Peter looks up at him, the green pencil hovering above the paper. “Stay?” He asks.

Tony feels his heart skip a beat, a strangely protective feeling rising up in his chest. “You wanna stay a little longer?”

Peter nods with a hopeful expression. Tony takes out his phone.

Melissa picks up after only a single dial tone. “Y’ello?”

“Hey. It’s Tony Stark. Are you on your way here yet?”

“Just about to leave.”

“Can we give it a few more hours? We’re in the middle of a project and the kid is really caught up in it. He said he wants to stay.”

Melissa remains quiet for a little while. “I can do six o’clock,” she then says.

“Perfect.”

-

Peter’s ‘project’ results in the full range of Avengers being immortalized in a series of mildly insulting cartoons. After that, Tony explains his Spider-Man-algorithm in more detail, and Peter offers some interesting insights.

Before they know it, FRIDAY informs Tony that Melissa has arrived at the compound and is currently parking her car.

Peter hugs his notebook close to his chest, looking up at Tony with a wistful expression. “Thank you,” he whispers.

Tony swallows, squeezing Peter’s shoulder. “Thank _you_ , kid. You did me a real solid. I had fun today. You have a very bright future ahead of you. Send me your CV after you graduate, okay?”

Peter nods, his eyes full of a gratitude that Tony doesn’t really feel he deserves.

-

Melissa rises from her seat in the entrance hall when Tony enters with Peter.

“Good times?” She asks Peter, and he nods fervently.

Melissa nods at Tony. “Thank you. I’ll have him send his report to the Grainger foundation over the weekend, so it’ll appear on their website sometime next week.”

“Is there any way he can stay for dinner?” Tony blurts out.

Melissa raises a single eyebrow.

“You can stay too, if you want,” Tony tells her. “I feel bad for making you drive out here. You like Thai food?”

“Thing is, I’m off the clock in about an hour,” Melissa says. “And I got four damn kids waiting for me at home. So I have to take him back to the group home, now.”

“He could stay the night,” Tony suggests. “Are you back on the clock tomorrow? I can have him dropped off at his school.”

Melissa gapes at him, before turning to Peter, pointing her thumb at Tony. “This guy holding you hostage? Blink twice if yes.”

Peter giggles.

“Let me talk to the kiddo for a moment,” Melissa says, beckoning Peter to walk with her.

Tony impatiently waits as Melissa has a hushed and mostly one-sided discussion with Peter on the other side of the entrance hall. He understands her dilemma. Hell, if he were in her position, he wouldn’t let a kid in his care spend the night with some billionaire who had a shady reputation at best. On the other hand, why pass up the opportunity to make a kid happy who really deserved it?

Melissa and Peter rejoin him. Melissa’s face is tight. “All right,” she says. “Joseph has the night shift. I need to clear this with him. If it’s okay with him, it’s okay with me. And if shit hits the fan tonight, for any reason, call him. Uh – that’s just my number, he takes over the phone. Also, I assume you can take care of stuff like PJ’s and a toothbrush? Because I ain’t driving up and down just for that.”

“Done,” Tony says quickly, lifting a hand to clap it down on Peter’s shoulder. “I’ll take care of him, promise.”

-

It’s only as Tony guides Peter towards the living area that he realizes the other Avengers haven’t had any heads-up about Peter’s quiet nature. Immediately, he feels out of his depth. Melissa had told him not bring up Peter’s mutism, but he can hardly waltz in with a kid who barely speaks and not offer an explanation.

They enter the living area and Tony finds Pepper, Wanda and Steve sitting around the table, all three of them turning to look at him. And his palms begin to sweat.

“Hi,” he says, his brain grasping for a good way to explain the situation. “Did someone order dinner yet? Because Peter and I want Thai food.”

Three sets of eyes blink at him.

Pepper comes to the rescue. “Is Peter staying for dinner?”

“Staying the night, actually.”

“Why don’t you go show him his bedroom, then?” Pepper asks pointedly.

Tony snaps to attention and makes eye-contact with Pepper. Pepper – yes. She can handle this. He hadn’t thought of that. “His bedroom. Good idea.” He says, squeezing Peter’s shoulder. “C’mon, Funsy. I’m putting you in a room next to Vision.”

He throws Pepper a look, and she gives a nod that says _I got this_.

Tony quickly marches Peter out of the room again, making a beeline for the bedrooms in the west wing.

“Happy is picking up some stuff for you. Anything specific you need? Because now would be the time to – uh – say it,” he finishes lamely.

Peter shakes his head. Of course.

“What do you like for breakfast? Eggs? Toast? Pancakes?”

“Everything,” says Peter, and Tony chuckles.

-

The Avengers are surprisingly tolerant about the sudden intruder into their home. Peter, for his part, is surprisingly relaxed about having dinner with a room full of Avengers. Tony finds himself staring contemplatively at the kid who is sitting on the floor, squished between Natasha and Bruce, and listening to some boring lecture by Bruce with rapt attention, while forking down a large serving of green curry chicken rice.

Melissa had been right. Peter _is_ snarky as hell, in his own way. Nothing about the kid’s demeanor indicates that he is crippled by some form of anxiety that keeps him from speaking. Apart from the fact that – well – he doesn’t speak.

“What are you doing?” Pepper asks in a low voice later that evening, after she and Tony have moved into the kitchen to pack away the leftovers.

“I’m just – ah – working on good publicity.”

“Oh, I see,” says Pepper, her voice sounding strangely amused.

-

Tony digs up the remote from a bottom drawer somewhere. After only using voice commands for years, Tony is surprised he can still find it. He hands it to Peter so the kid can browse through the movies and pick one by himself.

The other Avengers have retreated back to their own rooms. Only Pepper is still in an armchair nearby, but she is focused on her novel.

Tony moves to the kitchen to microwave some popcorn. When he returns to the couch with a steaming bowl, Peter is looking up at him with a questioning gaze. Tony realizes that the kid has paused at the movie Ghostbusters and is now asking for his confirmation. “Golden oldie? Sure, Funsy. Sounds good.”

He puts the popcorn in Peter’s lap, making that wide grin appear on the kid’s face again.

“You are nice,” Peter whispers.

Tony turns to him, a faint smile on his face. “Thanks, kid. Not everyone would share that sentiment.”


	2. Ice cream

“Hey, asshole! Watch where you fire those lasers!”

Tony glances to his left to see something red and blue swing by. “Ah, look who decided to show up. Our Spider-ling in his onesie! Late as usual.”

“Well, unlike you I don’t have an expensive AI telling me where to go all the time.”

“File your complaint up my ass, kid!”

“I would, but your head is already up there.”

“Can we focus?” Captain America’s tired voice breaks through on the com. “We’re not done yet. Tony, take Spider-Man with you, secure the outer ring, east side. Vision, Wilson, same thing west side. Romanoff and Barton, how are things looking at your end?”

Tony hovers in mid-air for a moment. “Underoos you’re with me! Keep up!” And he blasts away.

“What do they want this time?” Spider-Man bellows out as he swings from lamppost to lamppost.

“Just attention, if you ask me!” Tony hollers back. “Watch out for their modified – _shit!_ ”

A green jet of light misses Tony’s Iron Man suit by a hair. It hits a wall instead, blasting pieces of plaster into the air.

“Got him!” Spider-Man yells, shooting his web straight at the offender, plastering him to the side of a building. “Hey – umpf – maybe not the best time to bring this up, but ah – ngnghh, damnit – those contraptions look a lot like whatever the Chitauri flew in on, way back when. Any chance those aliens set up their own little dealership somewhere in lower Manhattan or something?”

“Can we shoot ‘em first and talk later?” Tony bites out, scanning the area again. He slows down a little until he is hovering in mid-air. “I think we’re clear on this side. Do you hear anything?”

Spider-Man lands on a rooftop and stands perfectly still for a few seconds, head slowly turning left and right. “No,” he then says. “How many were there?”

“About a dozen,” Tony says. “Rogers – we’re all good on this side.”

“One of them ruined my suit,” Spider-Man says morosely, poking at a large burn hole on his sleeve. “It’s like I spend half my time making new ones.”

“Really?” Tony says. “And you still haven’t come up with anything better than those pajamas?”

-

They converge on a rooftop.

“Always good to see you, Spider-Man,” Steve greets. “Thanks for keeping Tony from getting himself killed yet again.”

“At your service,” Spider-Man replies. “Between the two of us, I suppose we can keep him from flying into a building.”

Tony had been standing on the edge of the building, looking down at the street where agents of SHIELD were cleaning up their mess. But at that, he turns and steps out of his Iron Man suit. “If I fly into a building,” he says, rubbing at his sore left arm, “if anything, I’ll be fine and the building will crumble. Unlike the two of you, who prefer to prance around in lycra.”

“Well, unlike you, _we_ have super strength, Stark,”

“Oh god,” Natasha mutters. “Here comes another dick-measuring contest. I’m going home, see y’all there.”

Steve waves a hand. “Hang on, Romanoff. We’re all going home. Care to join us?” That last comment was directed at Spider-Man. “Bruce is making lasagna for dinner.”

“Nah,” is the response. “Ever seen a spider eat? They will literally puke digestive fluid all over their food and then suck everything back in. --- Jeez, don’t look at me all bug eyed, that was a joke, guys. Point is, I’m not coming. Enjoy the lasagna.”

Tony steps closer and carefully puts a hand on Spider-Man’s shoulder. “Maybe another time,” he says, squeezing.

“Not likely. Okay, byeeee.”

Tony’s gaze follows Spider-Man as he runs towards the edge of the building and jumps off, firing webs as he swings away

He lifts his hand to his earpiece. “FRIDAY, is the tracker in place?”

“I have a signal,” FRIDAY confirms. “It’s moving east.”

Steve throws him a puzzled look. “You put a tracker on him? I thought you had promised him that he could keep his identity a secret?”

“Yeah, well, I’m a liar, Rogers. FRIDAY, let me know as soon as he stops moving.”

-

Maria Hill opens the backdoor of a van to give Tony a peek at the shrapnel inside. “I’ll have this delivered to the compound. How long until you can give us an update?” She starts scribbling out a form.

“I’ll look at it this afternoon. Can’t promise how much I’ll find. It looks like chitauri tech.”

“I agree,” she says. “Now I just want to know where the hell it came from.”

“And I’m guessing ‘space’ won’t be a satisfactory response?”

Hill doesn’t react to that. She tears the form from her clipboard and holds it out to Tony. “Can I trust you not to completely screw up the paperwork?”

“Honestly? Probably not.” Tony stuffs the paper into a pocket. “Give Fury a big kiss for me.”

He turns and walks back to his Iron Man suit, lifting one hand to his earpiece. “No updates on the tracker yet, FRI?”

“The signal has left New York and is moving northwest.”

Tony halts. “What? He left the city?”

“The speed and location suggest that he is on the train to Hartford.”

The hell? Did Spider-Man jump straight on a train right after the mission?

“All right, update me as soon as he leaves the tracks.”

-

It takes another hour before FRIDAY returns with an update. “The tracker has not left the train tracks, but it has been stationary for fifteen minutes.”

“Where?”

“Hartford train station.”

“Anything on the station’s security footage?”

“Nothing noteworthy.”

Tony has a bad feeling about this. Is it possible that Spider-Man discovered the tracker within minutes, and had simply left the tracker on a train as a diversion? But he doesn’t have much choice – he has to be sure.

“All right, FRI, calculate my route. I’m flying down there.”

He prepares for the worst-case scenario, but it’s still a big fat disappointment when he finally reaches Hartford train station and finds the tracker stuffed between two seats of an empty train.

Damn.

-

“Hi, Melissa? It’s Tony Stark. I was wondering if maybe Peter could come over again some time this week.”

“Come over,” Melissa echoes, sounding stumped.

“Only if he wants to,” Tony quickly adds.

“Oh, I think he’ll want to,” Melissa says. “Never seen the kid so excited.”

A warm feeling spreads through Tony’s chest. “I can have him picked up. Wednesday?”

“That’s… I mean… All right,” Melissa says, still sounding a little reluctant.

“Perfect. Can I just ask… His speaking… Does he have a diagnosis or something?”

“Not exactly. Some therapists have suggested selective mutism, but it doesn’t fit great. I don’t know, psychology is complicated shit. All I can say is people deal with trauma’s in different ways. We can’t always label it.”

“Hm.”

“Look, I’m sorry if this question offends you, but I gotta know. Is all this still part of your little PR stunt, or is this for real? I just want to be clear if you’re going to drop this kid like a hot brick once you’re back in everyone’s favor.”

“Does it matter?” The words come out before Tony even thinks about them. “The kid gets a few awesome days at the compound, and I get my reputation back.”

There is a long pause. “No, I suppose it doesn’t matter,” Melissa says, finally. “Just as long as we’re all clear.”

-

Peter brings a bouquet of white peonies for Pepper.

“Oh, you’re so sweet!” Pepper says, enveloping the boy in a warm hug.

“You suck-up,” Tony tells him, and Peter smirks.

“Shall I show you how to properly cut them and put them in a vase?” Pepper suggests to Peter.

“Pepper, please,” Tony scoffs. “This kid has an IQ the size of Mount Everest. He’s not here to learn how to use scissors. He’s here to calculate the required torque for base rotation in an Iron Man suit.”

“Is that right?” Pepper asks. “Peter, do you want to calculate the required whatever for base whatever, or learn how to cut flowers?”

“Flowers,” Peter says, with a grin in Tony’s direction.

“He’s only saying that to mess with me,” Tony grumbles.

“Just sit down,” Pepper says, pointing at a chair. “You could learn something, too.”

And so Tony sits there as Pepper goes on and on about how to cut the stems, remove the leaves and get the right temperature of water. It takes about half an hour before Pepper deems them both proficient in the science of vase-filling, and Tony is finally, _finally_ able to drag Peter down to his workshop.

“Damnit, kid,” he mutters.

Peter giggles.

-

Tony has found that Peter silence is not a hindrance in their communication at all. The kid might not speak much, but when he does speak, he is a lot more straightforward than most people.

“Wrong,” Peter bluntly informs him, pointing at the hologram floating in front of them.

“All right, funsy, all right, I’m still working it out, don’t get on my case. What’s… what’s wrong with it? Oh, yes, I see what you mean.”

It’s a little scary how familiar it already feels to have the kid rummaging about in his workplace. He feels like he has known this kid for ages. Like he only needs one glance at Peter’s face to know what the kid is thinking. It doesn’t matter that he only speaks a few words, because Tony always understands what he means.

Tony focuses his attention back on his Spider-Man algorithm. “Tracker didn’t work, unfortunately,” he says. “In fact, it backfired pretty damn hard. And now Spider-Man might be pissed off at me. Any other ideas on how to catch him?”

Peter sits in the desk chair next to him and leafs through his notebook until he reaches the page with his cartoonish drawing of Scarlet Witch, then looks up at Tony with a questioning gaze as he turns the notebook towards him.

Tony waves his hand. “I’ve asked her, but she said it doesn’t work that easily. I don’t know, I don’t have a PhD on mindreading. Plus, she has a thing about… I don’t know… the ethical side of it, or some bullshit like that. Honestly, I think she just has a little crush on the guy.”

Peter’s eyebrows shoot into his hairline.

“Which, you know, is weird since none of us have seen his face,” Tony continues.

“Ugly,” Peter suggests with a playful expression.

Tony chuckles. “Yeah, you’re right, that might be why. Either way, that’s another dead end. What else ya got?”

A thoughtful expression appears on Peter’s face, and he slowly turns his desk chair around, scanning the workshop as if looking for some secret tool that might help Tony track Spider-Man down.

Once he has made a full circle and is facing Tony again, he gives a shrug and then holds his hand up in a pistol hand-gesture, imitating the firing of a gun.

Tony is taken off guard and his hand flies up to his mouth as he barks out a laugh. “What, you’re suggesting I shoot him?”

Peter shrugs, giving him a questioning glance.

“Nah. He’s on our side. I’m not going to go that far.”

“Good,” says Peter with a smile.

-

Vision and Wanda prepare chicken paprikash for dinner. Steve and Natasha also join them, while the other Avengers take their dinner in their own rooms.

Steve means well, but he is clearly a bit apprehensive about Peter’s silence. And if there is one thing Tony has learned, it’s that the more Peter is encouraged to communicate – be it in words, writing or hand gestures – the quieter he will in fact become. Tony isn’t sure yet if it is part of a coping mechanism, or just another way for Peter to mess with people.

“Do you prefer potatoes or rice?” Steve asks Peter. “Uhhh –point at what you want.”

Peter just stares at him.

“Neither?” Steve tries. “Both?”

“Lay off him, Rogers,” Tony says. “If he wants something, he’ll just take it.”

“Okay…” Steve says, pushing several serving dishes closer to Peter so he can reach them.

Peter glances at the different dishes, then back up at Steve, and Tony can practically _see_ the kid’s trickster brain coming up with a reaction.

“Ice cream,” says Peter.

Steve almost drops his fork. “What? Uh – you want ice cream? On you chicken? Are you – are you sure? I mean, we _have -_ ”

“Rogers, he’s messing with you,” Tony says.

Peter giggles as he cuts into his chicken and Tony resists the urge to lean in and ruffle his hair.

-

There is no time for a movie that evening, because Peter still has to finish some of his homework. So he sits next to Tony on the couch with his economics book in his lap, while Pepper sits in the armchair and reads her novel.

“Next time do your homework first, all right?” Tony says. “You don’t have to do my calculations if you still have your own work to do. I can help you, instead of the other way around.”

“Next time,” Peter repeats slowly, and Tony feels a little awkward, suddenly.

“Well, yeah,” he replies, keeping his voice light. “I mean… I don’t know, I haven’t really thought about it. But we can do it again next week. Only if you want to, of course.”

Instead of giving some form of response, Peter starts digging through his backpack.

Tony glances towards Pepper, who is keeping her eyes steadily on her book, even though Tony knows that she is listening to every word they are saying.

He turns back to Peter when the kid holds his phone out to him, and realizes that Peter is pointing at the blog at the Grainger Foundation website. “Nah, kid. You don’t have to do that anymore. They only set up our first meeting. This one’s all you and me, right?”

Peter gives him a puzzled look. “Good publicity,” he says softly.

“Yeah,” Tony says, suddenly aware that Melissa probably already blabbered to Peter about their earlier phone conversation. He can’t blame her. She doesn’t want Peter to get his hopes up high and then have them come crashing down. “The publicity doesn’t matter,” he explains. “It’s just… I’m… not very good at stability, long-term plans, responsibility. All cards on the table; I like you around, kid. I don’t know, I see something in you. But I have no idea how I’ll feel a month from now. That’s not about you, it’s about me. I’m an asshole.”

Peter shakes his head with a frown.

“Trust me, I am. So I don’t care about the PR, but Melissa is right if she told you not to expect too much from me. I’ll pay for your college tuition, though, if that helps. Or buy you a car, or something.”

Peter gives him a long searching look before lifting up his pencil and poking Tony in the chest. “You are nice.” He declares, poking Tony with each word. And then he gets back to his economics homework.

Tony glances at Pepper again. She still has her eyes firmly trained on her book. But she is smiling.


	3. Sad

Tony hears a soft thud as someone lands on the roof behind him.

“Guess who, ya douchebag?”

“Thanks for stopping by, underoos, but we got it under control.”

“Of course you do. Which is why I just saved a whole crowd of people from some explosive glowy thing that those guys dropped. Saved you from another round of bad publicity. You’re welcome.”

Tony turns to him. “Where is it?”

“It exploded,” Spider-Man repeats. “So it isn’t really anywhere anymore.”

Tony hums. He lifts his faceplate to reveal his face, glancing Spider-Man up and down. “I wasn’t sure if I’d see you again.”

“Yeah?”

“I know you found the tracker.”

“Ah, yes. Nice try.”

“Nothing personal.”

“I know.”

“I’m surprised you still came.”

“I’m not going to stop helping people,” Spider-Man says.

“You’re a good man, Spider-Man.”

“I try. And while we’re on the topic, last week I was sorta trying to keep someone from getting shot, and then there was a whole car-chase going on, and some dude in wings flew down and grabbed me, and then dropped me in a lake, but that’s not even the important part, because before the guys started shooting at each other they were doing a sort of arms deal, and I’m pretty damn sure they were the same type of weapons that these guys used today, and I’m pretty sure the guy with the wings is the source of the weapons.”

“Okay, are you on steroids or something? Can you explain all that again at a normal tempo?”

“Fine, grandpa, maybe if _you_ turn up your hearing device?” Spider-Man shoots back. “I followed some shady guys who got together under a bridge. Two guys were selling weapons to a third guy. Not the ordinary stuff, but like…. Do you know the movie Men in Black? Those kinds of weapons. The Chitauri kind. When they drove off I chased them, but a guy with wings just swooped down out of nowhere and basically carried me away. I got rid of him, but I don’t know where the other guys went. They are definitely dealing in some badass weaponry. They probably know the source of the weapons. They might even be the source.”

Tony has about a million more questions he wants to ask. But he eventually settles on: “Why haven’t I heard this before?”

“It’s not like I have a way of contacting you that wouldn’t also be a danger to my identity.”

“You could always just swing by the compound.”

“Who’s to say you won’t jump me and force my mask off?”

“I could do that right now if I wanted to. But I don’t want us to be enemies.”

“Well, we both already know you put a tracker on me. How much would really change if you put me in a choke-hold right now?”

“You make a convincing case, Spider-Man. Maybe I’ll do that.”

“That’s my cue I guess,” Spider-Man jokes and, without another word of goodbye, he sprints towards the edge of the building and jumps off.

Tony gazes after him as he swings away.

-

“You’re a little quiet today, funsy,” Tony says, fully aware of how strange it is to say that to Peter. But it’s true. Peter had entered the compound today without the usual cheeky grin on his face. He had allowed Pepper to give him a hug with not much of a reaction, and has now been silently working on his homework for almost an hour.

Peter doesn’t respond. He doesn’t even look up from his work.

Tony’s gaze lingers on his hunched form for a while longer, before he gives up and turns back to his own project.

“Sad,” Peter then murmurs.

Tony turns back to him. Peter has abandoned his homework in favor of doodling in the margins of his notebook, a broody expression on his face. “Anything I can help with?”

Peter shakes his head. “Just happens.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. Let me know if you’d rather go home, okay?”

To his horror, that statement seems to bring tears to Peter’s eyes. The kid quickly turns away from him and starts furiously rubbing his eyes with his sleeve. “It’s _not_ home,” Peter says, his voice breaking.

Tony wants to kick himself. He slowly rolls his desk chair closer to Peter, but doesn’t know what to say. ‘Everything is going to be okay?’ That’s pretty lame, considering everything the kid is going through.

“Can I give you a hug?” He asks.

Peter takes a deep breath before he turns back to Tony, their eyes meeting. Tony leans forward and carefully folds the boy into a hug. Peter rests his forehead down on Tony’s shoulder, sniffling quietly.

“After my parents died, I holed up in my workshop and didn’t talk to anyone for at least two weeks,” Tony says, as he slowly rubs a hand up and down Peter’s back. “Until Rhodey dragged my ass out and took me fishing. I’d like to emphasize that that’s the only time I have ever been, and will ever go fishing. I was bored out my skull. I strongly suspect that Rhodey only forced me to come to show me that life could always get _worse_.”

Peter gives a soft chuckle. “Lonely?” He asks.

Tony nods. “Yeah, of course. Especially at first. It takes some time to bring new people into your life that you can call family. But it happens, eventually. I promise you. I didn’t forget my parents. But I can think about them now without feeling sad. You’ll be okay, Peter. Maybe not tomorrow, or even next month, but you will be.”

Peter hums before breaking away from the hug, dragging his sleeve across his face one last time before turning back to his homework and picking up his pen.

“Do you need any help with that?” Tony offers. “Of course you don’t, but do you?”

Peter points his pen at one sentence in his book and Tony leans in to read it. It is nothing math or science related, unfortunately. Instead, it’s an essay prompt in his English book: ‘How has the place where you’ve grown up impacted who you are?’

“Yeah,” Tony says. “I get how that topic would piss you off.” He leans back in his chair a little, planting one elbow on the desk. “How about you focus on the city, rather than your family? You’ve lived in New York your whole life, right? What does this city mean to you?”

Peter appears to consider that suggestion for a moment. Then, he gives a faint smile.

“Is that an idea?”

Peter picks up his pen and starts writing, so Tony takes that as a ‘yes’.

-

Tony bakes pancakes for breakfast the next morning. Peter looks tired and pale, but he nods when Tony asks him if he’s sure about going to school today.

“Next week I’ve got all kinds of meetings on Wednesday, so I’ll see if we can reschedule for another day, okay? Tuesday or Thursday. I’ll call Melissa about it later.

Peter looks up from his pancake and gives him a searching look.

“You know all this doesn’t change anything, right?” Tony offers, hoping he is interpreting Peter’s look correctly. “You can have bad days. It won’t make you any less welcome here.”

“You’re nice,” Peter murmurs.

-

On Saturday afternoon, FRIDAY alerts Tony that something red-and-blue has landed on the roof of the compound.

“You said I could swing by,” Spider-Man says as soon as Tony's head appears through the roof hatch.

“Come inside,” Tony suggests, halting on the top step of the stairs.

“Nope.”

Tony steps fully onto the roof, the glass hatch sliding closed behind him. “What’s up, underoos?”

“I found out who’s dealing in weapons. Name’s Adrian Toomes. He’s the one who built the wing suit with Chitauri technology. I don’t know where he’s getting the stuff, but he’s getting it.”

“And you know this _how_?”

“I just know.”

“I’m going to need more than that before I call the FBI on his ass,” Tony says. He is lying of course. He’s Tony freaking Stark, he needs nothing more than a name to close this case. But anything Spider-Man gives him, might be a clue to his identity.

“Found the suit in his garage.”

Tony huffs out a laugh. “And how did you know what garage to break into?’

“I didn’t _break into --_ Does it matter?” Spider-Man asks, beginning to sound frustrated. “Listen, I solved it, you’re welcome. Just do your job and keep those weapons out of my neighborhood from now on.”

“Your neighborhood? Which one is that? You are all over New York.”

“Been paying attention to me, have you?” Spider-Man drawls, crossing his arms.

“Didn’t the tracker make that obvious already?”

“Made it obvious that you’re an asshole.”

“Yeah,” Tony says, not about to argue _that_ point. “Sorry.”

Spider-Man cocks his head. “You know I don’t think you’re _actually_ an asshole, right?" He asks, his tone suddenly changed. "That’s just stuff I say to mess with you. You’re not an asshole.”

“You should get to know me,” Tony jokes.

“I know you. You’re nice.”

Tony looks into the brown eyes peering back at him through the mask, and suddenly they seem familiar.

He shakes his head as if to clear it. “You’re insane,” he says, mostly to himself.

Spider-Man snorts. “Fine, if you feel that strongly about it, I’ll stick to ‘asshole’.”

-

Peter is smiling again. And he brought Pepper some tulips.

“How come you never bring _me_ flowers?” Tony complains.

Peter digs into his pocket, taking out a tiny, wrapped gift.

“Oh, you… you _did_ bring me something. You know I was just messing around, right? You don’t have to get me anything.”

Peter merely raises his eyebrows a fraction and drops his eyes down to the gift for a moment as if to say _‘just open it!’_.

Tony tears the wrapping paper away and a fridge magnet drops into his hand. A fridge magnet with a picture of Captain America and the words ‘Best Avenger’ printed above it.

“You little shit.”

Peter cackles with glee, clapping his hands together, and Tony doesn’t care about the magnet anymore because Peter is happy, and that’s all he needs. He takes a moment to drink in the kids sparkling eyes and wide smile. He glances from Peter to Pepper, and notices the soft smile on her face as she looks back at him.

Tony clears his throat and looks down at the magnet. “So, do you suggest I hang this down in my workshop so I’m reminded of it every day, or on the fridge in the kitchen where everyone can see it?”

Peter points at the fridge.

-

“You know what I’m starting to think?” Tony murmurs. “There is not one Spider-Man. There are multiple people pretending to be the same guy. That would explain the weird algorithms. That theory does require a group of people to have acquired the same super-human strengths at the same time, though. So maybe I’m wrong.”

Peter, who had been working on his homework in silence, merely glances at him for a moment.

“We’ve stopped the Chitauri attacks,” Tony explains. “Some guy named Adrian Toomes was behind them. Nipped that in the bud. Now all I have to do is see if I can use Toomes to trace down Spider-Man. Or the Spider-Men. Because I have a feeling they know each other. Any ideas?”

“Give up?” Peter suggests, not even looking up from his own laptop screen.

Tony can imagine the kid is losing interest in the Spider-hunt. To be honest, he is getting pretty tired and frustrated, himself. “Not an option, I’m afraid,” he says. “But you get on with your own work, I’ll crack this nut on my own.”

All Tony knows is that Spider-Man claimed to have found the wing-suit in Toomes’ garage. He also claimed that he _didn’t_ break into said garage. If both those claims are true, what would that mean? How would Spider-Man end up in Adrian Toomes’ garage ‘by accident’? Is there _any_ possibility at all that Spider-Man somehow knew Toomes personally? Well enough to be invited to his house and stumble into the garage by accident?

Tony has been contemplating that possibility for a few days, now. He has compiled a list of Toomes’ closest social connections. Neighbors. Colleagues. None of them really make sense when juxtaposed to the data Tony already has on Spider-Man. Then again, he doesn’t really have enough data to definitely rule many of them out.

Peter stands up, picking up his laptop and moving closer to Tony. He turns his screen towards Tony, and Tony sees that the kid hasn’t exactly been doing homework. Instead, he has been googling Adrian Toomes, and he now pointing at a website that shows _an_ Andrian Toomes listed as a member of the Queens Classic Car Club.

“He could be a member of loads of clubs, though,” Tony says, rubbing his temples to quell an oncoming headache. “If I have to include _all_ his connections in my research, this will take an eternity.

“Garage,” Peter says with a meaningful look.

Tony drops his hands down. Yes, that is not bad thinking. Tony doesn’t have much experience with car clubs, but it would seem logical that these people might spend time in each other’s garage, drooling over cars.

“Yeah, it’s…” he trails off, looking at Peter’s screen. He can feel that something is off, but it’s like his brain hasn’t caught up to him yet.

“Miss Potts is inviting you to come upstairs for Dinner,” FRIDAY suddenly announces, and Tony almost falls off his chair.

“You go up,” he tells Peter. “I just need _one_ minute.”

He needs a moment to work out what just happened.

Because he’s pretty damn sure that he never told this kid how the wing-suit had been found in Toomes’ garage. So how would Peter know to focus on that?

Suddenly, he is back on the roof, talking to Spider-Man, looking into familiar brown eyes. _You’re nice…._

Coincidence?

Is has to be. There is no way, no way in _hell_ that what Tony is thinking right now, could _possibly_ be true.

But still…

Tony starts his research. Adrian Toomes has a company. He already knew that. He has a wife. She is a lawyer. He already knew that. He has a teenage daughter. She goes to Midtown Tech, the same school Peter is in. He didn’t know _that_ yet. She is not in the same year as Peter, but a little more research shows that the two of them are on the same decathlon team. Maybe they study together. Maybe Liz has invited Peter to her home.

Coincidence number two?

Tony pulls up his algorithms, and the seemingly random collection of red dots on the New York map, indicating Spider-Man sightings. It only takes a few minutes and a bit of hacking into CPS, and Tony is able to expertly match the pattern of red dots to the different group homes where Peter has lived over the last months. Suddenly, the pattern makes perfect sense. There is no denying it.

The only question is what to do next.


	4. All in for the kids

Tony finds Steve staring at the fridge with a tiny frown in place.

“What’s that?” The man asks, pointing at the magnet.

“Just wanted you to know how much we all appreciate you,” Tony says, keeping his expression as serious as possible because he knows how much that will mess with Steve’s head, before grabbing a bottle of wine and moving to the table where the others have already started dinner.

Peter is sitting between Sam and Bruce, and laughs at something Sam is saying. As if he is just a teenager without a care in the world.

“Are you okay?” Steve pipes up next to him, and Tony is aware that he is staring.

This is not the moment. Not right now. Not in front of everyone.

After dinner they watch another movie. Just the two of them while Pepper reads in her armchair. Now would be the time to speak up.

But Tony doesn’t say anything.

The next evening Tony is in the living area with Steve and Natasha watching the news when a report about Spider-Man comes up. Something about a foiled burglary.

Tony doesn’t say anything.

Peter comes to the compound again on Wednesday. He works in the workshop. He has dinner with the Avengers. He stays the night. Happy drives him to school the next morning.

Tony doesn’t say anything.

-

On Monday evening, Tony comes home to find Peter there, curled up in Pepper’s arms on the couch.

“Hey,” he says, moving closer and taking in Peter’s trembling frame. “What happened?”

Pepper tilts the corners of her mouth down. “He wouldn’t tell me. Just showed up on the doorstep.”

Tony kneels in front of the couch so he can make eye contact with Peter. “What happened, funsy?”

No response, Peter just buries his face into Pepper’s woolen sweater. She frowns sadly as she brings up one hand to gently card it through his hair.

“Did you call Melissa?” Tony asks Pepper.

“Not yet.”

Tony steps into his office to make the call. Melissa picks up after a single dial tone, as usual. “Peter with you?” She immediately asks.

“Yeah.”

“Thank god. Why didn’t I think of that? How is he?”

“Upset.”

“Yeah,” Melissa says, resigned. “Thing is, he keeps clashing with another kid in the home, Denzel, a boy his age who has some anger issues.”

“Is that what happened today?”

“Apparently. Possibly other underlying problems. But I wouldn’t know because he doesn’t tell me, now, does he?”

“Does it happen a lot?”

“Quite a lot,” Melissa mutters. “He never ran away before, though. I guess he never had anywhere to run _to_ before.”

“Can’t he be moved to a new group home?”

“This is already his third home in six months. At some point you have to try and achieve some stability. We’re hoping they’ll learn to get along. Or ignore each other, at least.”

“That’s shitty.”

“I know it’s fucking shitty, Stark, but it’s the best we can do,” Melissa replies, frustration clear in her voice. “You tell me how to fix it. I got a teenager with anger issues, another one who doesn’t talk, a twelve-year-old with anorexia and little twins who were given drugs by their parents and are now going through withdrawal. Peter is not the only kid who deserves better.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I work sixty-hour weeks, you know, and I only get paid forty.”

“I’m sorry,” Tony repeats, sincerely.

“It’s fine,” Melissa mutters. “Shouldn’t be venting at you. Any chance you can drop him off? I have my hands full down here right now.”

“Can he stay here tonight?”

Melissa blows out a long breath. “Yeah, that’s probably best,” she then says. “I’ll let Joseph know. Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

Tony means it.

He returns to the living area. Peter is no longer clinging to Pepper, instead sitting hunched, cross-legged on the couch next to her. Pepper still has one hand resting on his back.

Tony takes a seat on the coffee table in front of him, phone still in his hand. “You had a fight with Denzel?”

Peter nods. “Sorry,” he murmurs. “It’s stupid.”

“Apparently that kid has anger issues.”

“S’not his fault,” Peter whispers.

Tony lifts his eyebrows. “No?”

“His dad beat him up. He has trauma. I never got beat up. I’m lucky.”

Well, how the hell does one respond to that?

“It’s not a competition, Pete,” Pepper murmurs, gently rubbing circles on Peter’s back.

Tony puts his phone away. “You’re sleeping here tonight, okay?”

Peter nods.

-

Peter has long gone to bed when Tony is still slowly pacing around the living area, broodily staring out the windows.

“I know what you’re thinking about,” Pepper says softly.

“I shouldn’t be thinking about it.”

“Why not?”

“I’m impulsive. And fickle. What if I take him in and then, after a few months, I just get tired of him and start to resent him? He doesn’t deserve that.”

“You’re wrong,” Pepper tells him. “You’re not impulsive when it comes to people. Look at me. Look at Happy, Rhodey. At Steve, Natasha. How long have we all been here?”

“Can’t stand them.”

“Keep telling yourself that. The truth is that you are very loyal. Trust me, that’s not the problem. The problem is whether the state will even _let_ you have him. You’d need to survive a background check, go through training…”

“How do you know so much about foster care?”

“I googled it.”

Tony stops pacing and turns to her, frowning. “How long have you been thinking about this?”

“Since he gave you the Captain America magnet.”

“What, something clicked right then?”

“I saw the way _you_ looked at him.”

Tony blows out a long breath, seating himself on the couch next to her and poking her in the shoulder with one finger. “So what’s the deal with us, Pep?” He asks. “Are we getting married or not?”

“Of course we are,” she replies evenly.

“Sickness and health, thick and thin, all that? Where would Peter figure into all that?”

“Everywhere, I suppose.”

That sounds about right. When Tony imagines his future with Pepper, it’s very easy to imagine Peter right there with them.

He looks at Pepper. “There’s something else you should know.”

-

Peter didn’t bring his schoolbooks with him, so he needs to be dropped off at the group home early the next morning, rather than going straight to school. Tony offers to drive him, eager for a chance to talk to Melissa.

“Hey – oh, hey,” Melissa says when she opens the door to them. She spares a glance at Tony but her gaze then lingers on Peter, who is shuffling his feet uncomfortably.

“Sorry,” Peter mumbles.

“We’ll discuss it this afternoon,” Melissa replies firmly. “Now, get your ass upstairs, go shake Denzel’s hand and pack for school. Coffee?”

That last question is directed at Tony.

“Sure.”

While Peter escapes up the stairs, Melissa leads Tony into a large kitchen with a long table in the center. It’s surprisingly clean.

“How many people live here?”

“Just five at the moment,” Melissa says as she grabs a coffee mug. “Not including us adults. How do you drink it?”

“Just black.”

“Have a seat. I hope you’ll be able to digest this stuff. It ain’t even my favorite coffee, and I’m pretty sure my standards aren’t as high as yours.”

Footsteps on the stairs, and a moment later Peter appears in the doorway to the kitchen, his backpack slung over one shoulder.

Melissa squints at him, leaning her hip against the kitchen counter. “That was a quick handshake.”

Peter just rolls his eyes, turning to lean against the doorpost. He looks like he can’t wait to get out of here.

“That was fast. You sure you got everything?” Tony asks, hoping to get one of those rare full sentences out of Peter, just to show Melissa that Peter is comfortable around him.

But Peter only nods.

“Did you get your Captain America breadbox?”

Peter smiles, now. “Black Widow,” he says.

“Oh, is that right?”

There is a noise at the front door and someone calls out a greeting.

“There’s Sayan,” Melissa says, leaving her own coffee cup on the table and moving into the hallway. Tony hears her hollering up the stairs for the other kids to come down. Tony stays where he is, but keeps his eye on Peter, who in turns keeps his eye on the front door from his position in the doorway.

“Any specifics?” Tony hears a deep voice, that must belong to Sayan, ask.

“Pete and Denzel got into a fight. But they’re all good now, aren’t you, Pete?”

Peter remains stony-faced.

“See?” Melissa says. “Never been better.”

Thundering footsteps on the stairs.

“Hello sirs and madams,” Sayan booms. “The car’s out front. May I help you with your coat?”

A girl giggles. Tony resists the urge to step into the hallway and get a glance at the other kids. Melissa probably doesn’t need them to be distracted by him right now.

Melissa appears in the doorway. “Time to go, Pete. Put on a coat, it’s going to rain later.”

“See you?” Peter asks Tony with a hopeful expression.

Tony nods. “Of course, funsy. See you soon.”

Peter nods and disappears from sight. A moment later, the front door falls shut and a silence descends.

Melissa returns to her seat, clasping her hands around her coffee cup. “I can’t believe how much he talks to you,” she murmurs.

“Really? Here I was worried that he was being too quiet. I wanted to impress you.”

“Why?”

Tony halts at that question. “Uh – I wanted to discuss something important.”

Melissa glances down at her watch. “Let’s go to the office.”

She leads Tony down the hallway and through a door. The office can be described as, at best, organized chaos. There are piles of paperwork everywhere and a half-eaten sandwich lying on top of a stack of books.

“I like what you’ve done with the place,” Tony says. Now that he is here, he doesn’t really know where to start.

Melissa just raises her eyebrows a little as she sits behind her desk.

Tony shoves his hands into his pockets, beginning to slowly pace the room. “Does Peter have any kind of prospects for, uh, a foster family or something? Is that even on the table? I don’t know how this stuff works.”

Melissa purses her lips. “It’s always on the table. But older children are hard to place. There was one couple about four months ago who were considering it, but they quickly turned out to be assholes. Peter’s a tough kid, though. Doesn’t let anyone mess with him. The first time that bitch slapped him in the face, he packed his bags and came right back to the group home. That’s why I trust you, Stark. Because I know Peter wouldn’t put up with your shit if you gave him shit. That is one advantage of growing up in a loving home. He knows when he’s not being treated right.”

“So what needs to happen for me to get him?”

Melissa gives him a long, assessing stare. Tony steels himself for some sort of interrogation, defensively folding his arms across his chest.

Melissa leans to the side and takes out a flyer, sliding it across the table towards Tony. “First thing you have to do is talk to your housemates. Because if you’re actually going to follow through on this thing, all adults in your home will be up for evaluation. And you’ll have a heck of a time convincing the agency that someone like Dr. Banner doesn’t pose a safety threat to children.”

“This is impossible,” Tony mutters. He picks up the flyer, that has a picture of a smiling girl on the front and the title ‘all in for the kids’.

Melissa leans back in her chair. “I don’t think your chances are as bad as you think. Let’s see… irregular lifestyle, unusual home environment, somewhat questionable reputation…”

“You were explaining how my chances _weren’t_ that bad?”

“You know the kid,” Melissa says simply. “Policy says it is always in the best interest of the child if they can go to someone they're already comfortable with. It could be considered a ‘kinship placement’. They are a lot easier to arrange. You are single, yes?”

“Engaged, actually.”

“That’ll improve your chances. Unless it’s former KGB-agent Miss Romanoff who you’re engaged to.”

“Pepper Potts. Stark CEO.”

“Have her file the paperwork. Your name isn’t the first thing they should see when evaluating your application, no offense.”

“Fully agree.”

“And if your application _does_ get rejected… I’m sure Tony Stark has way around that.”

Tony narrows his eyes. “Are you telling me to cheat my way into getting this kid into my home?”

Melissa casually studies her long nails. “What if I am?”

-

Tony agrees to return to the group home that afternoon so that he and Melissa can talk to Peter together. All Tony can do all day is aimlessly surf the internet, gathering more information about foster care. He is nervous. He is excited. He is terrified. He is elated.

He tries not to get his hopes up. Peter might balk at his suggestion. He might have absolutely no desire to spend the rest of his teenage years shacking up with a bunch of super-humans. And honestly, why would any kid ever agree to be under Tony’s supervision?

 _Stop it_ , he tells himself. _No spiraling_.

He asks Happy to drive him back to the group home that afternoon, because he is worried he is so distracted that he’ll drive his car off the road. Happy of course wants to know why Tony is going to the group home again, especially after Tony informs him that Peter will not be driving back with them.

“I just need to discuss something,” Tony explains, evasively.

“All right.”

“Say, Hap, do you still have that engagement ring?”

Happy pats his jacket pocket. “Been carrying it since 2008.”

“Okay, good. Because I’m pretty sure she said ‘yes’ last night.”

“ _Pretty sure?_ ”

“I mean, it wasn’t a literal ‘yes’, but she said we were getting married. I definitely remember her saying something like that. Which boils down to the same thing, doesn’t it?”

“Whatever happened to good, old-fashioned, tradition?” Happy laments. “You get on one knee, she says either ‘yes’ or ‘no’ and then we al know what the hell is going on.”

“Just remind me to give it to her later.”

“Sure,” Happy turns the wheel and brings the car to a stop. “Here we are.”

Tony looks up at the group home, taking a deep breath in. “All right. I won’t be too long.”

“Good luck,” Happy says, a knowing glint in his eyes.

-

“Don’t take it personally if he is doubtful all right?” Melissa says. “He loves spending time with you. I’ve seen that. But this is a huge step, and he can have his reasons to be hesitant.”

“Can he say no?”

“Not technically, unless he has a very good reason. He can file a complaint about his placement, but only once he has already been living with you for a while and has given it a fair shot. Of course, it’s up to you do decide to withdraw if you get a sense that he doesn’t want to do it. But let’s gauge his reaction first and then talk strategy.”

“Sure,” Tony says, impatiently tapping his fingers against his crossed leg. He is pretty sure that he has barely registered all the information Melissa has dumped on him since they sat down in the office. He just wants to see the kid.

“I’ll ask him to come down, then,” Melissa says. “I’ll just quickly discuss the formalities with him, and then I’ll leave you two to talk things over, all right?”

“All right,” Tony says, having to stop himself from adding _‘just go get him already’_.

Melissa leaves, and Tony stands from his chair and paces around the room as he waits, repeating everything he wants to say over and over in his head, until the door opens and Peter appears.

“Hey kid,” Tony says, grasping for one of his usual quips, but coming up with nothing.

“Hey,” Peter responds, immediately looking nervous and wary. Tony gives an encouraging smile.

“Take a seat,” Melissa says, pointing at the chair that Tony had vacated, and sitting behind her desk again. She doesn’t beat around the bush, not even a little bit. “Mr. Tony Stark and Mrs. Pepper Potts are planning to apply to become your permanent foster parents. That application is not yet final – and frankly, might take some work to get approved – but if it does, you’ll be moving in with them. They would become your primary guardians and assume all responsibility over you. You would move out of the group home entirely. You will remain in the same school. Any questions so far?”

Peter is practically gaping at her.

“No? Then I’ll leave you to talk it over. Come out whenever you’re ready,” she says. And she leaves.

Even for Tony, who knew what was coming, that was a lot to process in a few seconds.

He slowly turns to Peter who is still staring at the empty seat that Melissa has vacated, his expression full of shock.

“Pete, look at me,” he coaxes.

Peter snaps his mouth shut, then turns to look at Tony. There is a tiny frown on his face.

“I just need to know how you feel about this, okay? First reaction? Horrified, relieved, confused?”

Peter slowly stands up from his chair, shuffles forward and then wraps both his arms around Tony’s waist, tucking his head under Tony’s chin and burying his face into Tony’s coat.

Swallowing, Tony lowers his arms around Peter, squeezing him extra tight and leaning in to drop a kiss into Peter’s brown hair. “Does that mean you want to do this?” He asks. “Because I want you to know that it’s perfectly okay if you don’t. You’ll still be welcome to come to the tower once a week.”

Peter releases him and returns to his chair, remaining silent.

“Melissa suggested that, while we wait for this application, you could stay with us on the weekends instead of Wednesdays, so we have more time together. And even if this foster thing falls through, we can always keep doing that, all right? Or I create an internship for you and you come over every day. Or we get you emancipated when you’re sixteen and you move in then. The point is, no matter what, you have us. Understand?”

Peter looks down at his hands and Tony can’t help but think that the kid looks a little sad. He steps forward and kneels in front of Peter’s chair. “How are you feeling right now?”

“I’m Spider-Man.”

Tony blinks and rears back a little, startled at the sudden admission. Peter goes frighteningly still and ducks his head between his shoulders as if he is expecting Tony to start yelling at him.

“I know, kiddo,” Tony softly says, reaching out and squeezing Peter’s knee. “I know. But thanks for telling me.”

Peter looks up with a startled expression. He searches Tony’s eyes for a moment. “Everyone?” He whispers.

“No, just me and Pepper know.”

“How long?”

“I’ve known for maybe two weeks. Told Pepper last night.”

“Asshole!”

Tony scoffs. “Hey! You’re the one who bullshitted me into putting a tracker on Spider-Man’s suit, and made me fly all the way to Hartford!”

Peter chuckles softly, his shoulders relaxing. “That was funny.”

“You little shit,” Tony says with a fond smile, reaching out to take one of Peter’s hands in his. “It doesn’t matter,” he emphasizes. “It’s not an obstacle. And it wasn’t a requirement either. It’s just… a happy coincidence. Pepper and I feel like the three of us fit together. We hope you feel the same way.”

Peter slowly nods, flexing his fingers and turning his hand over so he can interlace his fingers with Tony’s.

“I don’t know how this is going to work out,” Tony murmurs. “I probably won’t pass a lot of the tests. I considered not telling you until I had everything sorted, just in case it falls through and it was all for nothing. But I want you to know. I want you to know that I’m going to fight for you. _We’re_ going to fight for you.”

Peter looks up at him again, his face hopeful and full of raw emotion, tears shining behind his eyes. Feeling his throat close off with emotion, all Tony can do is lean forward again to pull his kid in for another hug, one hand stroking Peter’s hair, the other rubbing his back in soothing motions.

“Thank you,” Peter whispers.


	5. Avengers, assemble

“Pepper, we both know I’d be desperately lost without you. I’m still desperately lost most of the time when I’m _with_ you, so you have your work cut out for you. But no one else could do it like you do. Will you marry me?”

“Didn’t I say ‘yes’ to this about a hundred times already?” Pepper asks with a smile that reaches her eyes.

“Yes, but as I’ve understood, Happy won’t be satisfied until I ‘put a ring on it’.”

“Go on, then,” Pepper says, holding out her hand.

Tony plucks the ring out of the box and carefully slides it onto Pepper’s finger, before leaning in for a kiss.

“A husband and a kid,” Pepper murmurs. “Do you think we should get a goldfish, too?”

“Up to Peter,” Tony says, smiling. “So. On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate this proposal? Just so I can brag to Happy about it later.”

“I’d put it at twelve percent.”

-

Tony is in no mood to take the Avengers on all at once. But the idea of having to sit them down one by one is even worse. He has tried to trick Pepper into doing it for him, but she sees right through him, damnit.

So he sends the message ‘ _Avengers, Assemble’_ to everyone and waits in the living area for the others to show up.

“Two items on today’s agenda,” he announces. “Number one: Peter Parker is Spider-Man. Number two: Pepper and I are applying to become his foster parents. Any questions?”

Pepper sends him an exasperated look from across the room. Which reminds Tony.

“Oh, also, Pepper and I are now officially engaged. I suppose that’s item number three.”

“Congratulations,” Rhodey says. “Also, what the fuck?”

Tony adopts a businesslike tone. “Pepper and I are filing the paperwork soon. If all goes well, he’ll be moved from the group home and move in here. Since Peter is enhanced, I’m sure he’ll make a good fit.”

Steve is frowning. “Even if he is enhanced, he is not a soldier. He is a kid. His abilities shouldn’t determine what happens to him.”

Tony is lost for a moment, until he realizes what Steve is talking about. “You can’t possibly think that his powers are the reason why we want to take him in.”

“So, it’s just a coincidence?” Steve asks skeptically.

“Oh – no, Rogers, you’re right,” Tony snarls. “I already have Bruce’s lab prepared to start experimenting on him as soon as he steps foot in this place!”

“Tony, calm down,” Pepper says.

“I don’t like what he’s insinuating.”

Pepper shrugs. “He’s looking out for Peter. You should be happy about that.”

Damn Pepper and her irrefutable logic.

“Right,” Tony bites out. “Thanks for looking out for my kid by accusing me of child abuse.”

Steve holds up a hand. “I didn’t say that. I just figured that Fury was probably behind this.”

“He doesn’t know,” Tony says. “No one at SHIELD knows, and I’d like to keep it that way for the time being. At least until the paperwork is final and they can’t try to meddle with it.”

“You don’t trust Fury?” Natasha asks.

“I trust him to think in humanity’s best interest. That leaves it up to us to think in Peter’s interest. Can I trust you not to go blabbing to him, Romanoff? Barton?”

“Sure,” Natasha says, “but only because the kid is so damn cute.”

Clint snorts. “I second that. But, ah, have you all met Peter? And have you all met Spider-Man? Please explain to me again how they are the same person? Is the non-speaking thing part of his cover?”

Tony shakes his head. “It’s not. Honestly, we haven’t discussed it much. But I imagine he finds it easier to speak freely when no one knows it’s him.”

“So now that we know it’s him, are we gonna get a quiet Spider-Man?”

“I don’t know, Barton, we’re just figuring it out as we go along. We have some kind of foster care workshop tomorrow, FYI, so Pepper and I won’t be here for dinner.”

“You’re actually _going_ to those?”

Tony shrugs. “Might as well. It’s not like we have a lot of experience to fall back on. I might pick up something useful. And there’s only going to be a handful of other people, so I don’t think our appearance will cause a stampede.”

“Can you just talk us through how you came to this decision?” Rhodey asks.

“He just fits in,” Tony says, looking at Pepper for confirmation as he speaks. “Pepper and I both feel it. If you’re asking me to explain it – I can’t. It’s just a feeling. Frankly, I don’t need any of you to approve. But if you disapprove, I’ll thank you to keep it to yourself and just let us raise the kid.”

“You’ll make a good dad,” Rhodey says.

-

Pepper is restless the rest of the week. Tony understands. Now that they made their decision, she wants to see Peter. She hasn’t gotten to talk to him yet, not like Tony has.

Tony has done everything he can think off.

He bought parenting books. He doesn’t read them, of course, but he displays them nicely front and center on the shelves in the living area, anticipating the Agency’s home visit. He ensured new safety regulations on his workshop and Bruce’s lab upstairs. He wouldn’t ever actually keep Peter out of them, of course, but he wants to give the impression that the house is childproof. He even asked Wanda and Vision to teach him to cook chicken paprikash, just in case he is accused of not being ‘homely’.

Their application is still rejected.

Tony calls Melissa the same day he gets the news. “All right, Melissa. Who do I need to bribe to make this happen?”

“I’m not sure,” she says. “I’ll send you a list of names. Start there.”

Tony calls every name on the list. “What do you need?” He asks each of them. “Fancy new car, fancy new carpet in your office, a big fat portrait of you by the reception?” He also sets up a separate foundation for children in group homes. He was going to do that either way, after everything he has learned these past months.

Their application gets accepted.

Tony calls Melissa back when he gets the news. “What do _you_ need, Melissa?” He asks. “New computers, new clothes for everyone, new toys?”

“You don’t have to bribe _me,_ Tony,” she shoots back, using his first name for the first time.

“Just tell me. I owe you a huge favor.”

“Tony, believe me. We’re good. The only thing these kids really need is new families. You’ve already done me the biggest favor possible by taking Peter in.”

“We can pick him up straight away, right?” Tony asks, eagerly. “I mean – this thing is effective immediately. Can we just come get him?”

“We usually drive them. Gives them a bit more time to say goodbye down here. I’ll drop him off around six, okay?”

-

Pepper and Tony are waiting by the front door when Melissa turns her car into the driveway. Peter steps out, carrying a larger bag this time.

“I’ll take that,” Tony says. He takes the bag from Peter, quickly squeezing his shoulder.

Pepper steps forward and pulls the boy into a hug. “Hey honey,” she murmurs. “I’m so happy to see you.”

“Me too,” Peter whispers.

Pepper shakes Melissa’s hand, invites her in for coffee, but Melissa shakes her head. “Wish I could, but I can’t stay away for too long. I wasn’t supposed to be the one dropping him off in the first place, but I wanted to say goodbye.”

Peter hugs her, too. “I’ll visit,” he says hoarsely.

“You’re always welcome,” Melissa murmurs. “But you don’t have to. You have a new home. Don’t feel guilty if we drop off your radar. That’s how it’s supposed to go.”

-

Pepper takes Peter up to his room to help him get settled. She and Tony have done their best to make the room feel more personal. “You’ll have to let us know if you want anything different,” Pepper says as she glances around. “Tony and I just went with our gut feeling. You can put something in that picture frame. That poster used to be in Tony’s workshop. Oh, and the magnet with the picture of Iron Man on it was Tony’s doing, of course. You can throw it out.”

Peter smiles a little, but his gaze lingers on the empty picture frame on his nightstand, and Pepper can see a whole range of emotions crossing the boy’s face.

“Are you okay, honey?”

“It’s a little scary,” Peter admits.

“Yes. For us, too,” Pepper assures him. “New things are always scary. But we’re also very excited.”

Peter opens his mouth, then closes it again, looking torn.

“You don’t have to be excited, too,” Pepper carefully says. “I just wanted you to know how we feel.”

“I’m sorry. I’m bumming you out,’ Peter whispers. “I was supposed to be happy.”

“You’re not _supposed_ to be anything, Peter,” Pepper says. “You’re moving into a new situation and it makes you think about everything you’ve lost. That’s normal.”

Peter turns to her and leans in for another hug. “Thank you,” he murmurs. “You get me.”

Tony enters the room. “How are we doing?”

“Just fine,” Pepper answers, even as she carefully strokes Peter’s back.

Tony looks eager to get in on the hug, spreading his arms wide and wrapping them around both of them. Pepper chuckles a little.

“My family,” Tony says, and Peter chokes out a sob.

Tony drops a kiss into his hair. “It’s okay, Pete. We know it’s a lot all at once.” He leans back a little to catch a glance at Peter’s face. “Do you want a moment alone?”

Peter immediately shakes his head.

“Will you stay with him a little?” Pepper asks Tony. “I’ll go down and see what’s going on for dinner. Any requests, Peter?”

Peter shakes his head, wiping his eyes. Pepper gives him a final kiss on the forehead before leaving the room.

Tony lightly squeezes Peter’s shoulder. “Want me to help you with that bag, or would you rather do that yourself?”

Peter slowly moves to his bag that has been placed on his bed, and pulls the zipper down. The first thing he pulls out is a red-and-blue mask that Tony recognizes immediately.

Peter sits on the edge of the bed, looking down at the mask, then up at Tony as if he is trying to convey something, but doesn’t know how.

“Things are different when you’re in the Spider-Man suit, aren’t they?” Tony ventures.

Peter clutches the mask a little tighter. “It’s safe,” he whispers.

“I get that. Hey, just because we know you are Spider-Man doesn’t mean you suddenly have to start talking your head off, all right?”

Peter turns and lies down on the mattress on his back, looking up at Tony. “Of everything I might possibly talk about,” he begins, “most of it is stuff I either _couldn’t_ talk about or didn’t _want_ to talk about. I got tired of the questions. Stuff like ‘how are you feeling today?’ or ‘where were you last night?’. So I stopped talking. And, I don’t know… Life became a lot easier, so I kept it up. No one has ever known about Spider-Man. _No one_.”

“Not even your parents, or you uncle and aunt?”

Peter shakes his head. “Got bit after my parents died.”

“I’m sorry, _bit?_ ”

“Long story,” Peter mutters.

Tony nods. Just because Peter is speaking in full sentences now, doesn’t mean he is ready to divulge his entire life story. “That’s okay,” he says. “All in good time. How would you like it if we made you a new suit?”

Peter looks up eagerly at that.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’. It’ll take a while, so don’t expect it to be done in one week!”

“We have time,” Peter says with a soft smile.

Tony’s heart soars. “Yes, we do. Want to start straight away?”

They make their way down to the workshop, where Peter gets to work on something that definitely piques Tony’s interest: his web fluid. Tony leaves his own project on his desk, instead sitting next to Peter’s worktable with his head leaning in his hands, closely monitoring the process. The scrutiny seems to make Peter a little shy, but the kid keeps up his work anyway.

“Pepper and I figured you shouldn’t go out patrolling again until this new suit, with all its safety protocols, is up and running. Okay?”

“Okay,” Peter replies easily as he mucks about with the chemical substances.

“Also, you have school, homework, dinner, bedtime… Where does Spider-Man fit in?”

Peter shrugs. “Depends on homework.”

“Fair enough. So, no Spider-Manning until the homework is done, is that your suggestion?”

“Yeah, okay,” Peter replies easily.

“And we’ll have to set a curfew. I have all your data; I know you go out in the middle of the night from time to time.”

“I don’t really like to do that,” Peter mutters. “But you know, in group homes they keep a _really_ close tab on you. Sometimes it’s the only way I get to go out.”

“Well, I definitely don’t think that’s a good idea. How does ‘back inside at 11 p.m.’ sound?”

“Fine,” Peter says.

Tony looks him up and down. “I thought you were going to fight me hand and tooth on this.”

Peter just shakes his head.

“You know you _can_ , right? If there’s anything you don’t agree with, or anything you want differently, you can talk to us about it.”

A short silence. Then: “You buy the wrong peanut butter.”

Tony barks out a surprised laugh. “Yeah? What’s wrong with it?”

“Not crunchy.”

“You want crunchy?”

“Yup.”

“Consider it done.”

-

The other Avengers greet Peter enthusiastically at dinner. Wanda even gets a hug in. “How are you?” She asks.

“Tired,” Peter murmurs.

“That’s normal,” Sam pipes up. “You’ve been experiencing a lot of emotions this week. That drains you.”

“Sam’s a therapist,” Tony informs Peter, and Peter immediately shoots Sam a wary look.

“Don’t worry,” Tony continues. “He’s the good kind.”

Sam snorts. “It’s good to keep moving,” he tells Peter. “Steve and I always go for a run in the mornings, maybe you want to join us?”

Peter’s face lights up and he nods.

-

Tony had never imagined that everyone else would accept Peter so readily into their life. He doesn’t like to give Steve or Sam _too_ much credit, but Peter’s mood seems a lot better the next day. He comes back from the run with a sweaty forehead but a wide smile.

“Shower?” He asks.

“Of course, funsy. You know where to find everything, right? You have about thirty minutes until you have to leave for school. Happy will drive you.”

The boy nods and disappears. Sam flops down in an armchair, leaning his head back and groaning. “Why did I ever suggest that? Now there’s two of them. You have any idea how fast they run?”

Steve chuckles.

“I have a rough estimate, yes,” Tony says, thinking of all the data he has collected on Spider-Man over the past months.

“They’re going to kill me,” Sam mutters.

“We were just messing around today,” Steve says. “He had fun, didn’t he? But we’ll run at a normal, human pace next time. Promise.”

“Thank you for letting him tag along,” Tony says. “Means a lot.”

Sam waves a hand. “He’s a good kid.”

Happy is next.

“You took a long time,” Tony says when Happy and Peter return late that afternoon.

“We went for cheesecake,” Happy says.

“Did you, now?”

“I figured I might as well get to know him.”

Peter grins, holding up two fingers. Tony has noticed he still doesn’t talk a lot when there are people other than Pepper or himself around.

“What does that mean, you ate two whole cheesecakes?”

Peter rolls his eyes.

“Two pieces,” Happy says. “And half of mine.”

“That was nice of you. Thank you,” Tony tells him.

Happy pats Peter on the back. “What can I say, I like this one.”

Then, Bruce and Rhodey. They prepare pizza for dinner that evening, and invite Peter to help them. Peter mainly takes it upon himself to arrange the ingredients in the most creative way, creating an iron man pizza with red and yellow paprika.

“Good job, kid,” Tony says when he passes through the kitchen. “You guys, note how he choose to make an Iron Man pizza, _not_ a Captain America one.”

“No blue,” Peter explains with a shrug.

After dinner, Peter spends about two hours just looking on with interest while Natasha and Vision sit on the floor next to the coffee table and play chess. After Vision has beaten Natasha for the second time, she raises her eyebrows at Peter. “You want to see if you can beat an AI in a game of chess?”

“No,” says Peter.

Natasha chuckles. “Fair enough.” She gathers her pieces together. “Don’t you get bored from just watching?”

Peter shakes his head.

“You’ll make a good spy one day,” Natasha says which, coming from her, is practically a gold medal.

-

It is late and the living area is quiet when Peter pads in, already wearing his pajamas. He sits down sideways on the couch next to Tony, drawing his legs up and tucking his toes under Tony’s leg. He is clutching something to his chest. Tony recognizes the empty picture frame that he and Pepper had put on Peter’s nightstand. “You want to put a picture in?”

Peter shrugs, looking helpless. Buying the picture frame had just been a triviality to Tony. He and Pepper had bought it along with a few posters, new books and a Rubik’s cube. He should have realized that a picture frame had a much more loaded meaning to Peter who, on the one hand, might be happy to have a reminder of his family members but, on the other hand, might not want to go to sleep and wake up every day with that particular reminder staring back at him from his nightstand.

“You don’t have to do anything with it right now,” he suggests. “We can stuff it in a drawer somewhere. And if you ever want to put any pictures up, just let us know.”

Peter slowly nods, leaning in to put the picture frame face-down on a side table.

Tony reaches out a hand and puts it on Peter’s knee. “How was today for you?”

“Awesome,” Peter says earnestly, and Tony breathes a sigh of relief. “Yeah?”

Peter nods. “Everyone is nice.”

“They are, aren’t they? Usually not to me. I guess you bring it out in people.”

Peter smiles, looking a little exasperated. “You’re nice, too.”

Tony hums, squeezing Peter’s knee. “Morning jog with Sam and Steve, Cheesecake with Happy, cooking with Bruce and Rhodey… Are you ready for every day from now on to be as weird as today was?”

“I’m ready.”


	6. Four months later

“Are you nervous?”

“Yeah. Is that weird?”

“No, I’m pretty sure it’s normal. In fact, I believe Happy’s main job is to keep you from secretly sneaking out of a window and taking off.”

“Not a bad idea, funsy.”

“Well, at least wait until I’ve left the room before you bail, okay?” Peter asks, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Or Pepper’s gonna blame me.”

Tony releases a slow, controlled breath as he tugs at his cufflinks. “How do I look?”

“Totally lame.”

“Screw you, underoos.”

“You’re messing up your nicknames,” Peter says, still looking highly amused.

That’s right. Tony generally still sticks to ‘funsy’ when it’s Peter, and ‘underoos’ when it’s Spider-Man. But the two haven’t been that different, lately. Spider-Man is a little calmer. Peter is a little more animated, even with other people around.

Tony remembers the first time Peter uttered a full sentence at Steve, and how ecstatic the man had been about that. As if he’d won the lottery.

Peter had told Tony on his first day as a foster parent that he had stopped talking because he didn’t want to deal with questions that he wouldn’t or couldn’t answer. When it came to Spider-Man, that problem was easy to solve. All the Avengers knew about Peter’s identity, and it was something they could freely discuss.

When it comes to everything else, well, it isn’t all as easy. Peter still tends to revert back to his silence when the topic threatens to turn towards anything that reminds him of his family. Tony and Pepper aren’t always sure how to deal with it. They want Peter to be comfortable and do things at his own pace, but don’t want him to push away his feelings. Sam is a major help in all that. And the foster agency training actually helped a little, too. Not a complete waste of time, then.

He blinks when Peter snaps his fingers. “Earth to Tony? Are you still with us?”

Tony looks up, smiles. “Just thinking about you.”

Peter immediately looks a little flustered. “Why?”

“Because I love you,” Tony replies easily.

Peter turns even redder. “Save it for Pepper, dude,” he says awkwardly.

“There’s enough love to go around,” Tony promises.

“For me, too?” Happy asks as he walks in, fussing with his tie.

“There he is! The most irresponsible best man ever. I was about to jump out a window, I’ll have you know. Peter had to tackle me.”

“Well done, Peter,” Happy says, entirely unfazed. “Everyone is ready for you, Tony. In fact, Pepper’s mother is getting impatient.”

“That lady is permanently impatient. She’s like the direct antithesis of Pepper.”

“I like her,” Peter staunchly announces.

“You like everyone,” Tony tells him. “And everyone likes you. Like one of those Labrador puppies that wants to be petted by everyone and that everyone one wants to pet.”

“You’re blabbering,” Happy says.

“He’s nervous,” Peter explains, patting Tony on the arm.

“Let’s get going,” Happy says. “Rhodey didn’t get ordained for nothing.”

-

Pepper is wearing a pretty, green dress. She hadn’t wanted to buy a special wedding dress. “I don’t want to spend all that money on something I’ll only wear once,” she had said.

Tony had pointed out that they ran a billion-dollar company.

Pepper had pointed out that actually _she_ ran it, and she could wear whatever the hell she wanted _thankyouverymuch_.

At which point Tony had given up.

It is a small wedding. The Avengers are there. And Pepper’s parents. And Peter’s friend Ned. They had set up chairs in the garden behind the compound, and planted enough flowers a few months ago to ensure that they are now surrounded by a sea of bright colors. Rhodey officiates the ceremony. They say everything that needs to be said, and then go on to eating cake which – let’s face it – is way more important.

“Can we take a picture together?” Peter asks. “The three of us?”

“Yes, of course funsy, c’mere. Bruce – could you snap one? Someone hold my cake. How does my hair look?”

“Totally lame.”

-

The meaning of the picture becomes clear a few days later, when Peter searches Tony out in his workshop and holds something out to him.

It is the empty picture frame, which is no longer empty. There are three pictures in the frame. A picture of Peter with his parents at the top. A picture of Peter with his uncle and aunt in the middle. And at the bottom is the picture of Tony, Pepper and Peter at the wedding.

Tony carefully takes it from him to study it closer. “You want to hang that in your room?”

“Yes…?” Peter says, looking up at Tony as if asking for his approval.

“I think it’s awesome. I’m honored to be part of this little list,” Tony says, his eyes scanning all three pictures.

“Yeah,” Peter says. “Don’t die, okay?”

“Do you want me to stop being Iron-Man?” Tony asks, dead serious, and in that moment, he is certain that if Peter says ‘yes’, he will follow through, hang up his suit and that’ll be it. He will just be a dad.

“No,” Peter murmurs. “You have to help people. We both do. You didn’t stop me from going out, because you get that.”

Tony nods. “And I’d prefer if you didn’t die, either,” he says in a slightly more playful tone. “Because I have plans for you.” He hopes Peter can read the ‘ _I love you_ ’ between the lines without getting awkward about it again.

Peter nods. “I have plans for you, too.”

Tony chuckles. Message received.

“I’m gonna show them to Pepper,” Peter says, taking his picture frame back and shuffling out.

Tony turns back to his project: The new Iron Spider Armor, a definite upgrade.

The whole world will soon know that Spider-Man is now firmly on team Iron-Man.

How is _that_ for good publicity?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


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